Reassemble
by TouchOfViolet
Summary: It has been almost two years after the battle at Hogwarts and Draco is still trying to piece his life back together. And now there's a girl who is bound and determined to rearrange everything all over again. Figures.
1. The Other Greengrass Girl

**Disclaimer:** I disclaim ownership of Harry Potter. Sad.

**Author's Notes:** This is a Draco/Astoria story, mostly written using the prompts over at _12(underscore)stories_ at livejournal.

Thanks to Jordan for being simply the best beta there ever was. I heart you hardcore, Jo.

This one shot was cross posted to livejournal on August 21, 2010.

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**Reassemble**

by: Touch of Violet

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_I know that it's early  
and it's too hard to think  
and the broken empty bottles, a reminder in the sink  
but I thought that I should tell you  
if it's not too late to say  
I can put back all the pieces  
__**they just might not fit the same**_

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The Other Greengrass Girl

The portkey took Draco Malfoy and his girlfriend right into the front yard of the Greengrass house. There were others arriving at different areas, all dressed to the nines. This was the first time in several years the Greengrasses were hosting a party and everyone was anxious to get inside their home.

He thought taking the portkey was a bit ridiculous, since the Greengrasses lived relatively close to his own manor, but Pansy had not wanted to walk the distance, and Draco didn't feel like arguing. All day she had been going on and on about this party, and how he really should thank her, because he wasn't really invited but she was allowed to bring a guest, and it was the party simply everyone would be talking about.

Draco really couldn't care less about the party.

Pansy seemed particularly excited about the fact that the younger Greengrass daughter would be in attendance. Apparently, she never went home for the holidays; with good reason.

"_She's in her final year at Hogwarts," Pansy had rattled on as she tore through her closet, "and she is in _Hufflepuff_." The word was spoken as if it were a curse._

_Draco had raised an eyebrow._

_"Probably the first Greengrass in a generation to not be in Slytherin! Not to mention, to be sorted into Hufflepuff of all houses. _Ha!_ No wonder she's never home for the holidays. A _Hufflepuff_."_

Apparently part of the reason the Greengrasses were throwing a Christmas party was to show off their two, now of age, daughters. But the reason most of their guests were attending was to get a look at the younger daughter who was freak enough to defy the natural order of things and disagree with the basic concepts their circle of associates adhered to.

"So?" Pansy's high pitched voice cut through his thoughts. "You haven't said anything about my dress!"

It was a pink, frilly number and she looked rather like a flamingo. Deciding she might take his observation as an insult he said, "You look very thin."

She beamed at him. He wanted to gag.

There wasn't anything wrong with Pansy. At least, once you got used to her, anyway. And she had known him for forever, stuck by him when others had left, and worshipped the ground he walked on. _He _was the source of the problem - he just wasn't sure what the problem _was._

After the battle at Hogwarts a little over a year and a half ago, things had been difficult for him and his family. Many turned their backs on them because they had been Death Eaters. Still others hated them because they had switched sides at the end. _Maybe before the very end,_ Draco thought, and then pushed those thoughts away. He didn't like remembering those days. Neither did his Mum. And he thought his dad didn't either, though it was hard to be certain. Lucius was never home. Ever. Draco wasn't entirely sure where the older man spent his time, but he didn't dare ask his mother.

She already ate so little. He didn't want to remind her of anymore troubles.

"Not very Christmas-y," Pansy snorted, and Draco was more than a little surprised to see they were already standing in the main hall of the Greengrass home. It wasn't as large as his manor (granted, there were few homes that were) but it was a sizable home. The room had been decorated in green and silver, Slytherin crests adorning the windows and walls. In the corner was a small fern tree, placed almost as if an afterthought. That was the only Christmas type decoration he could see.

"Not a bad home though," she admitted with a condescending snarl. "Not as nice as _my_ home, but, oh there's Daphne!" She left his side and practically bulldozed through the crowd to get to the bar in the back of the room where two redheaded girls sat, sipping demurely at fruity drinks and giggling to each other.

There were many pureblood families in attendance, Draco noticed. He recognized almost everyone. But no one approached him. Instead, they avoided him as if he had some sort of contagious disease – like maybe the faded mark on his forearm was a virus they could catch if he sneezed in their direction.

_Well_, Draco sniffed, crossing his arms and absentmindedly fiddling with the sleeve of his dress robe that covered his scar. He clenched his jaw and glared at the room as a whole. _Fuck you too._

He caught site of his girlfriend dragging a tall, redheaded girl in a green dress away from the bar. _Daphne._ He did remember her. She had always been in the background at school, like part of the furniture or a painting – present, but not of any actual importance to him. She had a look of terror on her face and he could only guess why.

There was a redheaded girl left at the bar who was staring after them with a smile on her lips. She had to be Daphne's younger sister, the famed Hufflepuff of the family. Her eyes met his and her expression changed.

He had expected that. Most people stopped smiling when they recognized him. Most of them scowled, looked angry or even afraid. But that wasn't the case with the younger Greengrass girl.

She looked at him with pity.

"Don't be ridiculous," he heard his girlfriend say. "It's just Draco! Honestly, Daphne." She cleared her throat, but Draco couldn't look away from the girl at the bar. "Honey, you remember Daphne?"

He could feel the blood pumping through his veins; his heart slammed against his chest and his palms were drenched in sweat. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this angry. She – _a fucking Hufflepuff_ – would dare look at him like he was someone to be pitied? What the hell did she know?

Ignoring the girls at his side ("Draco?" Pansy demanded in a shocked tone, _"Draco?"_) he marched over to the bar; though no one looked at him, they seemed to know when he was approaching and quickly moved out of the way.

As he got closer, he could get a better visual on the girl who he was going to freakin' murder. Her red hair was short and curly, and framed her heart shaped face – her stupid, ugly heart shaped face. Her eyes were round and stormy blue, sparkling up at him like sapphires – like cheap, knock off ones that only drag queens would bother wearing. Her silver dress was strapless and accentuated the creamy, pale skin of her shoulders and chest – she might as well have been _deformed._

He had fully intended on telling her off, but when he reached the bar, she smiled at him in such a way that her nose wrinkled. She had freckles on her nose that spread out to her cheeks, he noticed. And they were the ugliest things he had ever seen. What was she, part Weasley?

Well, pureblood families were all at least distantly related.

Ugh. He needed a drink.

He ordered a firewhiskey and tried to ignore the way he could hear his heart pounding in his ears.

"Hello," she greeted.

He sipped his drink, enjoying the soothing burn down his throat. He nodded in her general direction, never taking the glass too far from his lips. Draco had had a couple of shots of cheap alcohol to help him through the night before Pansy had showed up, but nothing quite compared to firewhiskey. He took another long, slow sip, savoring the way it warmed him from the inside out.

"I'm Astoria Greengrass," she said, offering her hand.

Her hand was small, her wrist was thin and her fingers were long. Her finger nails were short and unpainted. It was a hideous hand.

He shook her hand and grimaced at how annoyingly soft it was. "Draco Malfoy."

She continued to smile at him even when he took his hand away too quickly and ordered his second firewhisky. At least the look of pity was gone.

"Enjoying yourself?"

He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes and saw her wry smile; he couldn't remember why he was mad at her for a moment.

"Having a blast," he told her, setting his drink on the counter and motioning to the bartender. "You?"

"Ah," she leaned back on the stool and motioned around the room. "I'm right at home here, surrounded by these festive holiday decorations."

He snorted, amused. "You're the Hufflepuff one, right?"

She smiled so big her could see all of her teeth. Maybe she meant to be threatening? "That'd be me. You can see how my parents have accepted my sorting so well." He couldn't help but glance at all the Slytherin crests decorating the room. "I'm in my seventh year; you'd think they would have backed down by now."

He took his refilled glass in his hand and sighed. "Old grudges die hard." Draco realized that was the wrong thing to say when pity flashed across her face again. It was infinitely worse, being pitied. He much preferred being hated.

"But things _can_ change," she said in a determined voice, her eyes shining. "People change. My parents will come around eventually. They're good people, they really are. They're just…misguided in some areas."

He wondered if she was talking about her parents after all.

Draco took a small, slow sip of his drink and did not look at her. He wanted to get away, but his feet seemed to have melted to the ground.

"I remember you," she said in a whisper.

As cautiously as he could he glanced at her. A blush lit up her face, making her freckles more prominent.

They weren't so bad, he decided. He started to count them.

"From school," Astoria continued, defiantly staring at his face. She had four freckles on her right cheek, three on her left. "I don't think you're as bad as people say. I-I don't think you're as bad as you want people to think." Six freckles on her nose, one placed right on the very tip.

Thirteen freckles in all. No, they weren't bad at all. He took another sip of his drink and sat down on the stool next to her. "I don't remember you."

She dropped her gaze to her hands, her blush increasing. "Well. I was two years behind you. And in another house."

"Hn." He could feel all the alcohol he had consumed throughout the evening want to take over the conversation. He didn't fight it. "You must've fancied me."

She rolled her eyes and fiddled with her hair, the color never leaving her face. "So?" Her eyes met his again, almost as if she was daring him to tease her.

He smiled for the first time in a long time. "Poor, poor Astoria. Pining away for an unrequited love all these years."

She snorted. "It wasn't like that."

He was grinning so broadly he was sure he looked insane. But he didn't care. He was enjoying himself for the first time in ages. "So tell me how such a cunning girl as yourself ended up in a house like Hufflepuff?"

She shrugged, obviously grateful for the change in subject. "I don't know, really. I grew up in a home where everyone was sympathetic to, well, you know." He tugged on his sleeve absentmindedly. "But someone's heritage never really mattered to me. I do try and fit in with my family." She motioned to her dress. He figured she was trying to point out that she and her sister had worn Slytherin colors, but his eyes were drawn to the creamy skin of her chest. "But, I guess I'll just forever be the black sheep."

"Black sheep?" He echoed with a quirk of his brow. He kind of liked the sound of that.

"Oh, yes," she grinned. "My deviation from the norm is quite the scandal for the Greengrasses. My decisions have made those around me rather uncomfortable." She took a sip of her drink. "And I enjoy every minute of it."

He definitely liked the sound of that.

He smiled and raised his glass. "To the black sheep, then."

She nodded and tapped her glass against his. "Happy Christmas, Draco Malfoy."

"Happy Christmas, Astoria Greengrass."

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**End Notes: **This was written for the "green" prompt using 12(underscore)stories _Colours_ table. I do realize that my description of Astoria Greengrass does not match how she will look in the Epilogue of the DH movie. My explanation for this is as follows: JKR does not mention in the book that Astoria is at Platform 9 3/4. She most certainly does not describe her looks. The only way we know Draco marries Astoria is from interviews that took place after DH was published. And while I think it is lovely that Tom Felton's real life girlfriend plays Draco Malfoy's wife in DH, it is most certainly not cannon (in the sense that the almight JKR has not deemed it so). Plus, her sister's name is Daphne. And years of watching Scooby Doo has made it impossible for me to picture a Daphne who is not redheaded. So. There.

Comments are love.


	2. Walk the Line

**Disclaimer:** *witty disclaimer goes here*

**A big ol' thank you**: Jordan, I still love you. And thanks for reviewing, guys. Reviews really are fuel.

This oneshot was originally posted to livejournal on August 16, 2010

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Walk the Line

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Draco knew he had been walking the line these past few years – or, maybe even longer. He was balancing right on the edge, trying to find the middle in-between two incredible extremes, of what he had been taught and what he knew.

All of his life he had been told what to believe – that he was important, that he was different, that he was _special_. But most of all, that he was _better _than everyone else because of his heritage. And he tried so hard to cling to those beliefs. Tried to remind himself how important he was, how good he was, how amazing he was. But as time went on he started to realize that maybe he was just average.

Maybe there was no real difference between him and someone else, no matter what their ancestry might be.

He supposed that revelation should have crushed him. The truth of the matter was it had been ages since he had felt any real emotion. Maybe the last time was 19 months ago, when Potter himself had swooped in on a broom and saved him from certain death; at least until the previous night, when he had met Astoria Greengrass. That girl had caused more emotion in him than he had felt in almost two years, from extreme anger to drunken happiness and everything in-between. She had forced him to _feel._

And he liked that. He liked her. And he wanted more of it.

So as he watched Pansy cry, her heart clearly breaking, he wondered what the appropriate response was. Maybe he should be sad, or guilty. But he found himself walking the line again, bracing himself against total nothingness and welcoming the overwhelming flood of relief that washed over him.

He had been knocked off balance; he was reeling, with no idea of what direction was up.

Draco couldn't wait for more.

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**End Notes: **This was written for _writing(underscore)addicts_ and their prompt for week #06** - Equipoise**. 313 words. (Took first place!)


	3. Snow Angel

**Fair warning: **This has only been edited by me.

This one shot was cross posted to livejournal on August 26, 2010.

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Snow Angel

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The distance between his manor and the Greengrass home was larger than he thought. Draco realized he should have brought a broom. He shoved his hands further into his slacks and sighed, his breath coming out in a big, visible puff.

It had snowed during the night; when he woke up and saw the pure, white snow outside he wanted nothing more than to see Astoria. So, he started walking. He didn't really think about why he wanted to see the girl - he didn't really think about much of anything on his walk except for the fact that he wished he had flown instead.

Before he knew it, he was knocking on their door.

The door swung open almost immediately; Astoria was holding on to the door handle with one hand and trying to put on a boot with the other. She was hopping up and down, struggling to get it over her foot, her over sized muggle coat making her look smaller than he remembered.

It was almost comical.

Her face positively lit up when she saw him. "Draco!" She exclaimed, forgoing the boot in order to throw her arms around his neck. He was too stunned to hug her back, or even decide if he wanted to be hugged.

She pulled away from him, smiling from ear to ear. "Did you see the snow?"

"Er," he raised an eyebrow at her. "Yes. I just spent the last half an hour walking through it."

"Do you want to play in it with me?" She asked. She was so excited and so hopeful and wearing such ridiculous, big clothing that she seemed entirely too young.

Astoria didn't wait for an answer. Instead she grabbed the boot and forced it over her foot while simultaneously shouting over her shoulder, "I'm going to go build snow people with Draco Malfoy!" Then she grabbed him by his arm and started running.

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"I have figured out why you weren't sorted into Slytherin," Draco announced.

Astoria had dragged him out into her back yard and immediately began building a family of snow people because "snowman is a sexist term." He mostly had just stood around, leaning on various trees and watching her. She was immersed in her work, smiling constantly and humming to herself. Once she had finished building three snow people of various sizes she had fallen backwards, landing flat on her back.

She was making a snow angel.

"Oh?" she said from her place on the ground, smiling as she moved her arms and legs.

"Yes. You're insane. People who are batshit crazy are generally not Slytherin material."

Astoria just raised a hand in the air. "Help me up?"

He rolled his eyes and pushed off the tree he was leaning against. He took her mittened hand in his and hoisted her up. She smiled at him in thanks before looking over her creation.

"You may not have realized this, but I love the snow."

Draco cocked an eyebrow. "I hadn't noticed."

She ignored his sarcastic comment and bent foreword, picking up a handful of snow. "I head back to Hogwarts tomorrow," she told the snow in her hands. She was covered in the white stuff - it clung to her too big clothes and bright red hair. She bit her bottom lip as she worked.

He had never seen someone look more innocent than she did in that moment.

He wondered if the sudden longing that swept over him was for the girl or if it was to be as pure as she was. And then he stopped wondering about such stupid things, forcing all ridiculous thoughts like that out of his head. He fingered the scar on his forearm through his black sweater as she packed the snow tightly in her hands.

"I thought that maybe we could be quill pals."

Draco couldn't help but snort. "Quill pals?"

She nodded, smiling brightly as she spared a glance in his direction. Astoria quickly turned her attention back to the ball of snow she held. "I thought you and I could exchange letters while I was at school." She looked at him from the corner of her dark blue eyes; she must have sensed how uncomfortable he was because she blushed prettily, her 13 freckles flaming against her skin. "It's nothing serious, I assure you. Pals are on the bottom of the rung as far as relationships go."

He grinned despite himself. "Really?"

"Oh yes," she nodded, her blush fading. "Quill pals especially. It's practically on the level with acquaintances, just barely higher than total strangers."

"Well, that's good to hear," he said, still grinning. "I wouldn't want people to get the wrong idea about me."

This time she was the one snorting. "And what idea would that be?"

"That I would actually be friends with someone in Hufflepuff. It's just disgraceful, you understand. But if quill pals is just above total strangers, I suppose-" a snowball was thrown into his face.

Draco wiped the snow off his eyes just in time to see Astoria running from him, laughing hysterically. Her laugh was loud and almost cackling; he found he rather enjoyed the sound of it.

"Shouldn't have done that, Greengrass!" He shouted.

Another snowball was hurled in his direction.

The game was on.

Draco hadn't had a good old fashioned snowball fight in...actually, he couldn't remember ever having one. But he picked it up quickly. He packed snow together tightly in his hands as he ran; he threw with excellent precision and dove behind trees and shrubs lest he be hit by enemy projectiles. Soon there was another laugh that ran along side Astoria's - deep and long and wholesome.

He was surprised when he realized that it was his own.

Astoria caught him off guard, ambushing him while he was hiding behind some shrubbery. He grabbed her around the waist and they were rolling together in the snow, laughing and screaming and touching.

When they came to a stop Draco crawled back over her body, putting his hands on either side of her head. She was breathing heavy and her face was flushed for other reasons than just physical exertion. There was a laugh still on her lips and he couldn't help but chuckle too.

He wanted to kiss her.

But before he even had the chance she turned her head, her erratic breathing coming out in white puffs on his forearm. His sleeve had gotten pushed up during their romp. His scar was exposed. And Astoria was staring.

Draco jumped off of her, holding his arm as if it had been burnt. He was on his feet, seconds away from running, his eyes wide and scanning for a possible exit.

"Wait, Draco," Astoria said. Her voice cracked on his name. "It's okay. It doesn't bother me."

He snarled at her, angry beyond all reason. She was still lying in the snow, propped up on one elbow. She looked so beautiful and innocent lying on a bed of pure white.

Draco hated her.

"Doesn't bother you?" He seethed. "Doesn't bother you? What does it do then, Astoria? Does it turn you on? Were you looking for a boy you could save?"

Her cheeks were blushing scarlet and she looked mortified. "No! Draco, I-I just meant...I just want to be your friend. Er, quill pal. It doesn't matter to me, what happened in your past. You're still you. Another black sheep." She smiled at him softly, and he felt his anger crack ever so slightly. "We're kindred spirits, remember? We gotta stick together."

His turned away from her, his hands working their way into the pockets of his muggle slacks. "What makes you so sure about me?" He asked, a snarl still on his face even though she couldn't see it. "As you said, you're only a black sheep because you weren't sympathetic to such a _noble_ cause. And my parents and I only switched sides at the very end. When it was _convenient_," he spit the words as if they had left a foul taste in his mouth. "What makes you think I've changed?"

He could hear her move to her feet. She sighed loudly; he obliged her by glancing over his shoulder. Astoria stared at right at him, her eyes shining with sheer determination.

"If it's good enough for Potter, it's good enough for me."

The brave thing would have been to stick around. The brave thing would have been to talk to her. The brave thing would have been to at least say goodbye before she went back to Hogwarts.

But Draco Malfoy wasn't known for his bravery.

He left her then, sparing her neither a word nor a glance.

She didn't try to stop him.

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**End Notes:** This was written for the "white" prompt using 12(underscore)stories _Colours_ table.

I do love all types of comments, from suggestions to complaints to copious amounts of praise. Or, you know. Whatever.


	4. Fold

**Disclaimer:** Sigh.

This one-shot was originally posted to livejournal on August 30, 2010

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Fold

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Draco Malfoy hated Harry Potter.

He always had and he was certain he always would. He hated Potter's stupid glasses and his ugly hair and his ridiculous savior complex.

But he had never hated Potter as much as he did in that moment, two days after the death of the Dark Lord, sitting in the Minister of Magic's office. Kingsley Shacklebolt was the current acting head of the Ministry, so it was technically his office. But he stood off to the side. _Harry Potter_ sat behind the Minister's desk like he owned it.

Draco's parents sat in front of the desk, holding hands and staring at the floor. He stood by the door of the office just dying for this meeting to be over.

"It's a simple deal," Potter said. His hands were folded in front of him and his eyes were dark behind his glasses. He looked much older than he had even two days ago. "If any information you have leads to the capture and imprisonment of any Death Eaters, you all will have clean records."

Draco's jaw clenched. His hands were fists at his sides. They'd be fools not to take the offered deal, he knew. But still, for it to come from _Potter_?

"And if we do not help you?" His father questioned, voice low in pitch and cold with thinly veiled hatred.

Like father, like son...

Potter unflinchingly met Lucius' gaze. "Then all three of you will spend time in Azkaban."

Lucius turned his gaze back to the floor.

"Why are you helping us?" asked Narcissa. Draco wondered the same thing. Didn't Potter want to see him rot away in prison? Hadn't he been delighted when Lucius was there before?

Potter appraised Narcissa for a moment before he finally sighed. "You helped me. You lied to Voldemort's face for me. I don't forget things like that, Mrs. Malfoy."

Potter's lips turned up at the corners and Draco realized that the dark haired young man was mirroring his own mother's smile. "But," said Potter, his smile dropping immediately, "we're even after this. Whether or not you take the deal and provide useful information is up to you. My hands are clean."

Well. Wasn't that nice of Harry Potter? The boy who just kept on living. He was _such_ a hero he even offered a hand to the villains.

"We should take it," Draco said, surprising himself. "It would be foolish not to, Father."

A long, silent moment passed.

Even from his place in the back of the room Draco could see the way his father's jaw tightened. He watched as his mother wrapped her hand tighter around his father's; the man's shoulders visibly slumped.

He looked defeated.

"Very well," Lucius said, and from his cloak he drew a small, black book. "May I?"

Kingsley handed his father's wand back to him. Because, sure, they were all for extending an olive branch, as long as they were in total control. It had been made perfectly clear from the moment they were escorted into the Ministry that the Malfoys were dangerous and not to be trusted.

Lucius muttered a few words under his breath and tapped the book with his wand. It opened and letters starting flooding the pages.

"A muggle book, Lucius?" Potter almost smiled. "Arthur would find that interesting."

"Are you threatening my father, Potter?" Malfoy snarled, his fingernails digging into his palms.

It was the first time the young man had acknowledged Draco's presence. He simply shook his head. "Your father, the Weasleys and books just have a history together. That's all."

And then his attention was back on Lucius and the little, black book.

Draco wanted to scream. How dare Potter put him through all of this and then act like he didn't even matter? Like he just barely existed?

"I helped set up muggle bank accounts for a number of..._associates_," Lucius said, carefully side stepping the real word. Associates did sound better than Death Eaters inside the Minister of Magic's office. "Just in case anyone ever needed to go into hiding. I have all of that information here, along with the various homes in muggle communities that were purchased for just such an occurrence as well."

Potter took the book, slowly flipping through it, his eyes skimming the pages. "And you're sure this information is accurate?"

Lucius leaned forward in his chair, his shoulders suddenly straight again. "I have no doubt that this book will lead you to every one of my associates."

Potter nodded, his attention returning to the book.

"Harry," Narcissa's voice cracked, immediately getting Potter's attention. "When...when all this is over, will you go to the public on our behalf? They will listen to you and...we might have a shot at having our lives back again."

Kingsley and Potter exchanged a long look before the older man nodded.

"I will go to the public with the truth," Potter promised Draco's mom. "_Whatever_ that truth may be."

His lips went up at the corners again and Draco knew Narcissa was smiling.

Draco Malfoy hated Harry Potter.

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**End Notes:** This was written for _writing(underscore)addicts_ and their prompt for week #07 - **Strategic Retreats**. 845 words. Took first place!


	5. Astoria's HindsightA Rose Between Pals

**Thank you**! To those who reviewed. It makes me happy.

**Disclaimer**: Still not.

These two one-shots were originally posted to live journal on October 16, 2010.

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**Astoria's Hindsight**

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._  
Dear Diary,_

_It's been a week since I returned to Hogwarts after Christmas break. Life has pretty much gotten back to normal, but…_

_I still haven't heard from Draco. _

_And, I suppose that's my fault. I shouldn't have brought up the 'P' word. I knew he was sensitive about that but – come on! Am I just supposed to pretend that the last three years didn't take place? That he was busying being a Good Little Boy and not earning that mark on his arm?_

_I realize that's probably what he would appreciate, but I just don't have the capacity to be _that_ fake. I don't. _I can't!_ I want to be his friend and that means I'm going to be honest with him._

_If he wants to be mine, well…I guess he doesn't, anymore. I guess I royally screwed that up with my honesty._

_Still. I stick by what I did and what I said._

_Oh, sure. Part of me still clings to that juvenile fantasy of making _The_ Draco Malfoy realize he simply can not live without me. I spent so many years at Hogwarts just praying he'd look across the Great Hall and notice me. _

_That's all I wanted – him to just register that I existed._

_It's safe to say that he definitely knows I exist now. And any chance I had at making him realize that he can't live without me flew right out the window the moment I said I knew I could trust him because Potter vouched for his family in the Daily Prophet._

_And I refuse to feel guilty about it because it was the truth._

_It is the truth! I still have that article, cut up and placed in an earlier page in you, diary, so, why should I act like it wasn't important? Worrying about someone's pride without ever addressing Real Issues does not a friend make._

_And he needs a friend. I can tell. He needs a real friend more than anything else._

_So, I will not feel guilty for what I did. I will not mourn the loss of the World's Greatest Love Story Never Told. He doesn't need a silly girl pining for him and glossing over all of his less that admirable attributes. He needs a good friend who will help deal with everything that has changed for him in the last few years. He needs a friend who is unafraid to get their hands dirty – who can be real and not celebrate all things plastic._

_And you know what, diary? I'm in effing Hufflepuff. I'm going to be the best friend that kid has ever had._

_He might never know because he is too angry to even want to be my Quill Pall. But, I'll be here at Hogwarts. Being his friend._

_Yeah. Because that is going to help the situation so much._

_I'm rambling, aren't I?_

Astoria shut the bound, leather book with a soft snap and glared at it for a few minutes. Normally writing her thoughts down always seemed to help quiet her mind. It gave her a fresh perspective on things and made her feel like she'd gotten some semblance of control back out of the situation.

But, as she sighed and looked around the girls' dormitory – all of her fellow classmates were sound asleep; a few were even snoring – sleep seemed more elusive than ever.

Just how was she supposed to be the Best Friend Draco Malfoy Would Ever Have if she'd blown up her chances by speaking the truth?

And worse – she didn't even feel guilty about speaking the truth. She was totally justified in what she did! That's what good friends did!

She huffed and jammed the diary beneath her bunk. She put her wand up, all light extinguishing, and threw the covers over her head.

Astoria was determined to go to sleep even if it killed her. And so help her God – she was not going to think about Draco Malfoy anymore.

Draco Malfoy and his stupid, beautiful eyes.

She realized the problem with her last thought almost immediately.

Growling, she rolled onto her stomach and held the pillow over her head as well.

* * *

**A Rose Between Pals**

Astoria made her way down to the Great Hall, yawing and stretching and rubbing her eyes. She had barely slept at all the night before for reasons she was not allowing herself to think about.

Almost blindly, she found a seat at her House's table and dove into some bacon. Crunchy, yummy bacon. Bacon didn't walk away from you after almost kissing you in the snow.

It couldn't, because wasn't it part of a dead pig's butt?

Astoria grimaced and put the bacon down. Suddenly, she wasn't so hungry anymore.

"You look like death, Tori," her friend Samantha said with a grin. "What were you doing last night?"

"Decidedly _not_ sleeping," Astoria replied.

"Oh, worried about potions?" Olivia asked, pushing her glasses up her nose with a concerned look on her face. "Yeah. Me too."

Astoria had just reached for some porridge – nice, safe, not dead animal butt porridge – when the mail arrived. Hundreds of owls swooped in and dropped their packages unceremoniously in front of the recipients. It was a Thursday, so Astoria wasn't expecting anything. Her parents sent her something (that was typically delicious) every Monday, while her sister sent her a letter every Friday.

But a beautiful, brown owl swooped down in front of her and dropped a small parcel right into her porridge.

Gasping, Astoria quickly wiped the parcel off.

She didn't recognize the handwriting that had addressed the package to her.

Her heart seemed to beat faster in her chest.

As cautiously as she could she started unrolling the parcel – an unblemished white rose fell on to her lap. She gasped again, softly this time, picking up the rose by the stem and admiring it up close.

No one had ever gotten her flowers before.

"Tori?" Samantha demanded. "Tori, did you get a_ rose_? From _who_?"

Olivia cleared her throat. "A white rose, to be exact. White roses often symbolize purity or happy love. Though, they can sometimes symbolize secrecy, innocence or charm. It really depends on the motive of the sender."

"Of course, it could just symbolize none of that and someone sent Tori a rose because it's a pretty flower!" said Samantha.

"Well. Yes." responded Olivia, just the slightest bit indignant.

With a smile, Astoria started reading the letter she held in her hands.

_Astoria Greengrass,_

_I have decided to allow you the honor of being my quill pall. _

_Do not let me down._

_Signed,_

_His Royal Highness, _

_Majesty of Majesties,_

_Draco Malfoy the First._

Astoria couldn't remember the last time she had laughed so hard.

"Tori?" Samantha's voice was bordering on shrill now. "Tori, who sent it? Who was it? Tori, what is going on?"

She wiped the tears from her face and hastily stood up. "Nothing. Just my sister playing a prank. I gotta go."

"But, class doesn't start for another half an hour," she heard Olivia call out.

But Astoria didn't care. She ran as fast as she could back to her dorm room – she had thirty minutes to write a letter to her quill pall.

And there was no way in hell she was going to let him down.

* * *

**End Notes:** These two one shots were written for _hh(underscore)writers_ block and the challenges number 73 Dear Diary and number 80 ...or Treat? They stand at 695 and 520 words respectively.


	6. Draco's Job

**Disclaimer:** If only.

This one-shot was originally posted to livejournal on October 19, 2010

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Draco's Job

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The Malfoys had always been rich - at least, for as far back as Draco could remember - there was always money. Money had overflowed, but the work his parents did had been minimal. As it were, his father was very well invested in real estate. He over saw large properties and was also on a couple Governor's boards. During the rise and subsequent fall of the Dark Lord, Lucius had secured several pieces of property in muggle neighborhoods, in large part to be a place of safety should any Death Eaters need to slip into hiding for a little while. As a bonus they could terrorize their muggle neighbors.

But the Dark Lord had fallen and many Death Eaters had been taken to prison or wound up dead. The Malfoys, however, had persevered. And the muggle properties had proven to be a very lucrative business venture. Lucius had left the handling of them to his only son, Draco. The older man hadn't quite gotten over his obscene hatred of muggles, even though they were a very profitable resource.

Draco, certainly, didn't like ordinary humans – his hatred of them, though, had waned to an unpleasant distaste; they weren't his brand of tea, but he was not going to stop anyone else from taking a sip. Fortunately, the young man turned out to be rather good in this line of business. He had a real head for numbers and was excellent in balancing budgets. He was a natural leader and his managing of the estates had been above and beyond what was expected of him. He had turned out higher profits than were predicted.

He was very good at taking a business and making it run smoothly. But his favorite part of overseeing all the Malfoy real estate in the muggle realm was reselling. Draco had even started making purchases of muggle properties on his own. He would buy dilapidated homes in up and coming neighborhoods for very reasonable rates. With the use of magic, the homes would be ready to turn around and put back on the market under time and way under budget, earning him massive profits.

But today he wasn't getting to put any homes on the budget. No, today he was visiting a Bed and Breakfast that his family owned. Spring had sprung, and he was going to do a metaphorical spring cleaning – not of closets and cupboards and old winter clothes, but of budgets and staff members.

The manager of the Bed and Breakfast had been very accommodating; it had been several months since Draco had visited, and he had surveyed the property before entering the manager's office to go over the budget. It was a very profitable little getaway for muggles, and they were very much in the black as far as profits went, and Draco intended to keep it that way. Which was why he denied the Head Gardener's request for an increase in wages to buy gardening supplies. He just didn't see the need. The Head Gardener, however, disagreed. But Draco couldn't really take him seriously – who honestly called themselves the Head Gardener with pride in their voice? It was shameful, really.

"I need a new hose! The one we have is just awful! And all the snow is melted, I've gotta start watering the plants, Mr. Malfoy. What am I supposed to do with a broken hose?"

"Use duck tape?" Draco had supplied, feeling a headache coming on. He would _ never_ understand how muggles had taken a fowl and turned it into rolls of sticky, silver tape without magic.

The Head Gardener had snorted and snuffed, huffed and puffed and eventually convinced Draco to at least _look_ at the hose before rendering his verdict.

And Draco, exhausted and with a pounding head, had agreed, if only to make the argument end.

Three other men had followed them outside. Apparently, they were the workers who served under the Head Gardner.

"Here," the Head Gardener said, thrusting a long, green pipe into Draco's hands. "Turn it on! See for yourself!"

Draco didn't like the way the three other men were looking at him. They had their arms across their chest (of course, all the sleeves of their shirts had been ripped off the way poor people always seemed to find fashionable) and smiles on their faces. He just sighed and, after a moment of intense staring at the object in his hands to figure out just how it was used, pressed down on the nozzle.

It exploded. Water shot out of his hands and drenched him completely in one large, hard blast. He cursed and threw the hose down. The Head Gardener stepped on it and bent it at a funny angle, halting the spray.

"You see?" he demanded. "I need a new hose!"

The three lesser gardeners were laughing.

Draco inhaled through his nose and wiped his soaking wet face off with his equally soaking wet hand.

"You," he said, pointing at the lesser gardener standing in the middle. "You're fired."

All four men gaped at him, amazed.

"What?" the Head Gardener demanded. "You – why? I need all my guys."

Draco felt rather like a drowned ferret. But he stuck out his chest and held his head high. "It's either all your 'guys' or more money for gardening equipment. And, it is obvious you need better equipment. Honestly, I don't see why it would take more than three of you to do a job a monkey could handle, but, I feel like being generous." He smiled. "Have a good day, gentlemen."

Draco left them then, sputtering behind him, and walked back to the building with water sopping in his shoes. No, he still didn't care for muggles. But he was excellent in making money off of them. And that he enjoyed.

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**End Notes:** This was written for _hh(underscore)writersblock_ and their prompt Muggle Objects. As per Writers Block rules, the original entry was completed in 30 minutes. This very slightly edited piece stands at 968 words.


	7. Quill Pal

**Disclaimer:** *something clever*

This one shot was originally posted to livejournal on January 29, 2010

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Quill Pal

_Dear Lord of the Ferrets,_

_I hope this letter finds you in high spirits._

_Life at Hogwarts is ever the same. I am pushing forward, pushing onward, until glorious graduation when I might leave this place and my father's rule and stretch my own wings, as it were._

_Also, my grades are pretty good, so that's totally awesome._

Astoria grinned to herself as she doodled in the upper left hand corner of the piece of parchment. She and Draco Malfoy had been exchanging silly letters since the school year had picked up after Christmas break. The snow had since melted and Easter was approaching.

She saved every letter from him in a small box that she kept under her bed.

No one knew about her quill pal, not even her best friends. It was kind of their little secret, just between her and Draco.

And it was killing her.

Sighing, she took out another piece of paper.

They never actually discussed not telling anyone they were quill pals. She just didn't want her friends nosing in to her business and telling her who she could write to and who she couldn't. It wasn't like she was stupid. She knew Draco used to be a Death Eater. But, didn't everyone deserve a second chance?

_Daphne,_

_How are you? How is life at home with Mum and Dad? I miss you all terribly and I can't wait to see you this Easter Break. Promise we will do something fun – just the two of us!_

_Sorry I haven't returned your letters in a week or so. School has been pretty intense lately._

Astoria took a deep breath. It was now or never. She was going to have to tell her family at some point or another that she was technically friends with Draco. She was sure her parents would be delighted. Her older sister, however, was an entirely different story.

_I've also been exchanging letters with a neighbor of ours for some time. I believe you've met him. His name is Draco Malfoy. _

Her sister had always been overprotective of her. It was sweet, really. Daphne had her best interests at heart, even if she went about seeing to her "best interests" in boundary crossing ways that didn't ever actually take into account what Astoria wanted.

Her pen stilled over the parchment and she chewed on her lip as she thought about exactly what she wanted to convey.

Astoria's message was simple. It was honest and to the point.

_He's my friend._

"And I hope you can respect that."

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**End Notes:** This one shot was written for _hh(underscore)writersblock_ and their fic amnesty day - meaning no challenge was required. As per their rules, this piece was written and edited in 30 minutes. 426 words.


	8. Slytherin Girl

**Disclaimer: **That's what she said.

**Thank you**: To everyone who has read/reviewed/favorited/alerted this story. I know things tend to get lost in the HP fandom, so it means a lot that you would take the time out from your busy days to read or review this story. :)

This one shot was originally posted to livejournal on December 16, 2010

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Slytherin Girl

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Daphne Greengrass isn't an idiot.

She grew up in the Slytherin house during the Second Rise (and subsequent fall) of Voldemort. She learned to keep her head down and her mouth shut. She knew not to argue, not to volunteer her opinions and most certainly to never side with anyone who had a different opinion. It's not that she is a muggle lover or anything. She gets that they are the Oppressor - gets that they are cowards who strike against anything they don't understand and that they would go after her if they got a chance. She just hates violence. And blood. And death. And the whole "Death Eater" thing is just not her style.

So she keeps her head down and she stays out of trouble.

She is not an idiot.

So as Daphne starts getting letters from her baby sister about a certain ex-Death Eater boy, she wonders how to handle it. Part of her wants to keep her head down and let Astoria fend for herself. But that boy is trouble and she wants her beautiful, innocent sister to stay away from him unless she too ends up corrupted.

Astoria is the only pure thing in Daphne's world and she doesn't want the Malfoy boy to have her.

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**End Notes:** This one shot was written for _hh(underscore)sugarquill_ and their challenge _Slytherin Girls_. 212 words.


	9. Unwanted Hope

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters that appear in this fanfiction.

**A/N:** Thank you for reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting. Keep it coming. :)

This one-shot was originally posted to livejournal on March 31, 2011.

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**Unwanted Hope**

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It really wasn't in Draco's nature to allow himself to feel hopeful about anything. At least, he couldn't remember feeling anything resembling hope in quite some time. He could remember being terrified – that was a feeling that had been practically implanted in his soul.

Fortunately, there were tried and true methods of forgetting one's terror (more truthfully, forgetting one's own life) and he didn't have to feel afraid anymore. Oh, he still did. But he had learned to push it out, stamp it down, and have a fucking drink.

As such, he wasn't quite sure how to handle feeling hopeful.

It was bizarre. He didn't know if any of his usual methods would even stop him from feeling that particular emotion, either. So he didn't bother. And there it was, fluttering around in his gut in a way he was certain couldn't possibly be good for his digestive system. It mingled there with his terror, making both emotions impossible to ignore.

He hated it.

In one swift motion, Draco ripped the letter in his hands in half. He set the two pieces on the desk in his room before backing away and sitting on the bed.

Seconds passed.

He did not move.

With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, he pulled out his wand. "Accio letter pieces."

Instantly, the two halves of the torn letter flew to him. He set them in his lap and tapped them with his wand. "Reparo."

With another sigh he said, "Wingardium leviosa," and had the now whole letter hover at eye level.

Her stupidly curvy handwriting hadn't even smudged.

_I'll be home for Easter Holiday and I'd love to see you, if you have time._

_Your friend,_  
_Tori._

It was the first time in any of their correspondence she had signed it with "Your Friend" instead of "Quill Pal" _and _she had used her nickname. On top of that, it was the first time either one of them had mentioned seeing each other in person again.

Perhaps that was why his carefully suppressed feeling of terror was rising to the surface – not only was he hopeful over the idea of seeing this girl again, he was actually starting to trust her as a friend.

Everything in him told him to run.

But instead he managed a letter that said only, _We'll see._

He couldn't bring himself to sign it.

* * *

**End Notes:** This was written for _hh(underscore)writersblock_ and their Challenge "Word Table" in which six words or phrases - _trust, accio, hopeful, reparo, terrified _and _wingardium leviosa_ - needed to be used. As per writerblock rules, this was written in 30 minutes. It stands at 397 words.


	10. Nothing Resolved

**Disclaimer: **Never.

Thanks for taking the time to read and to review or alert or favorite!

This one shot was originally posted to livejournal on May 3, 2011.

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_"Nothing ended, nothing begun, nothing resolved."_

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**Nothing Ended**

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Draco was caught off guard when the door to the Greengrass home opened on his second knock. A pretty young redheaded woman stood at the threshold, her brown eyes a deep, muddy color. She was frowning at him.

"Um," Draco heard himself say. "Hello, Daphne. I'm here for Astoria."

"I know why you're here," she said in snipped tones. Daphne opened the door wider and stepped to the side. "Please come in."

Raising an eyebrow but keeping his mouth shut, Draco followed his former schoolmate into the house and to a small den. There were couches and loveseats too big for the room crowded in front of a roaring fireplace. Daphne motioned to a seat and he obliged; she took a seat on the sofa next to him.

"Would you like a drink?" She asked, nodding her head to the house elf in the corner that he hadn't noticed when he entered the room.

"Er, no. Thanks."

"I'll take something strong," Daphne told the elf.

The fireplace crackled and Daphne crossed her legs, her knee bumping against his. "I hear you two are exchanging letters."

Draco cleared his throat and shifted in the love seat. "Yes. On and off."

"How cute," she stared at him hard, a smile on her lips that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Astoria is a very special girl."

He nodded and turned his attention from her muddy eyes and to the fire.

"She's going to go places," Daphne said.

He could still feel her eyes on him. The house elf returned and handed the oldest Greengrass daughter a drink – she took it without ever looking away from Draco's profile.

"Father was…wise during the war, you know," she took a slow sip of her drink. "He got us out of it, well, _unscarred_." She chuckled a little and he self-consciously tugged on his sleeve. "And Astoria, she's the least, unblemished. She is going to go places. She is going to be somebody. It would be such a shame if…"

Feeling heat rise up his neck and all the way to the tips of his ears, Draco turned to face her. "If what?" He demanded as quietly as he could.

Daphne smiled at him. "If she started hanging out with the wrong crowd; if she started relationships with people with less than honorable reputations, it could really impact her future. That would be a shame, wouldn't it, Draco?"

His nostrils flared. He could feel all the words he wanted to say to her right on the tip of his tongue, but Astoria entered the room.

"Hello, my two favorite people!" She greeted with a vibrant smile on her face. "How are you old classmates getting along?"

Draco couldn't make eye contact with her. He watched his knees.

"We were just reminiscing," Daphne smiled.

Astoria kissed her sister on the cheek and grabbed Draco's hand, pulling him off the couch. "We won't be gone long, okay? So don't worry!"

"Oh," Daphne smiled, looking right at Draco. "I won't."

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**Nothing Begun**

**_._**

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**

"It's good to see you again," Astoria beamed up at Draco, grinning from ear to ear.

They were walking the distance between her home and his manor, a good 45 minutes, and for the past 15 minutes Draco hadn't really looked her way.

She was undaunted. Mostly.

"I've just been picturing a face behind the letters for awhile, so, it is so good to see you again. Less work on my feeble imagination." She chuckled and bumped her shoulder against his arm.

He didn't reply or register that she had touched him at all.

Astoria cleared her throat, determined to press onward. "I've been looking forward to lunch all week! You know, I'm not sure I've ever properly met your mother."

Draco sighed. "Yes, about that..."

He stopped walking and Astoria followed suit.

"Yes, Draco?"

He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment before finally turning his attention away from the trail in front of him. He stared at the space above her head.

"I don't think this is such a good idea."

Astoria's heart picked up speed. She wet her lips, hoping to restore moisture back in her suddenly dry mouth, and managed a smile. "What are you talking about, Draco?"

"Lunch with my mother, the letters..." He was still keeping his focus a few inches above her hair.

She fought the urge to stand on her tip toes. "Yes?"

He shrugged a shoulder. "They aren't a good idea."

Astoria blinked furiously, trying to smile. There was a chance she was just misunderstanding things, after all. "Well, we can just reschedule."

Draco shook his head and turned his attention back to the trail. "No. This whole - it just, it isn't working out, Astoria. I don't want you to have lunch with Mother and I don't want you to send me anymore letters."

The smile slipped completely and tears were biting at the back of her eyes. "But I...Draco, I only want to be your friend."

Finally, he looked her in the eyes. His gaze was cold as he swallowed and said, "But I do not want to be yours."

She couldn't quite stop tears from sneaking passed her eyelids as they puddled on her cheeks. "What happened? What changed? When we talked this morning-"

"Nothing changed," he interrupted. "I've been meaning to put an end to this for a while now."

"But this morning everything was fine," she couldn't quite keep her voice from shaking. She wiped the tears off her face. "And then, as soon as you pick me up-" Astoria gasped. "What did Daphne say to you?"

Draco turned away from her. "That has nothing to do with this."

She grabbed his elbow and tried, unsuccessfully, to get him to look at her. "Draco, _please_!"

He shook her off of him and started walking away. "Take care of yourself, Astoria."

"Draco!" She called out, more tears falling. But it didn't matter. He apparated to somewhere else and Astoria was left alone on the trail.

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**Nothing Resolved**

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Daphne had barely started on her second drink when her sister ran into the den, doors slamming behind her. Her wild-eyed face was red and tear stained as she rounded on Daphne, panting deeply.

"Astoria!" Daphne gasped. "What happened? Are you alright?"

"You know exactly what happened!" Astoria yelled, thrusting her finger at her sister. "You know what happened because you're the reason it happened!"

Daphne glanced at the drink in her hand, spinning it slowly so that the ice cubes knocked against the glass. "I'm not sure what you're on about, Astoria, but if you would just take a moment to calm yourself-"

"So you could what? Come up with more lies?" Astoria shouted.

Startled, she looked up from her glass. Her sister was crying steady streams of tears, but they didn't seem to be hindering her anger.

"You always do this, Daphne! You always do this! You think you know best! But what do you know? You know _nothing_!"

"Astoria," Daphne said sternly, rising from her seat. "Do _not_ speak to me-"

"I can speak to you however I want! You're my sister, not my mother! I don't know what you did to Draco, but all of the sudden he wants nothing to do with me! I can't believe you, Daphne! I just wanted him to be my friend! That's all – _just_ friends!"

"Oh, please!" Daphne found herself yelling. "Please, _just_ friends! Like I don't see the way you look when you talk about him! Or I haven't noticed all the letters you keep under your bed that you reread incessantly! Just friends my ass!"

If it was possible, Astoria's face got even redder. "You wouldn't understand!"

"No, you're the one who doesn't understand!" Daphne dropped her glass and ignored the house elf that scurried around her feet to clean it up. "That boy is bad news, Astoria! You don't know him like I know him. I shared a common room with him. I was there when he first got that mark, dear sister, and do you know what? He _bragged_ about it. He was proud of it!"

Astoria visibly deflated, but her blue eyes held on to their wild look. "But, people – people change."

Daphne chuckled and crossed her arms against her chest. "That is an incredibly juvenile outlook on the world and that is why I did what I did, because you are too young and innocent to understand. People do not change, Astoria." Her voice was quiet now, but her heart was still pounding against her ribcage. "People do not change. They just learn how to be better liars."

Astoria lifted her chin and met her sister's gaze. "You're wrong. People change all the time, Daphne. What else can explain what happened to you?"

Daphne gasped and took a step back, feeling as if she had been physically hit.

The younger sister just shook her head sadly before running out of the room.

Daphne held a hand against her beating heart and watched her leave.

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**Author's Notes: **This was written for the livejournal community _hh(underscore)sugarquill_ and their challenge to use the quote: "Nothing ended, nothing begun, nothing resolved." - Brokeback Mountain by Annie Proulx. This stands at 1,500 words (each section of the quote is 500 words).


	11. Peace Offering

**Disclaimer: **Disclaim.

Thank you for reading and reviewing!

This one shot was originally posted to livejournal on May 8, 2011.

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**Peace Offering**

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Draco had just tucked in to his supper when there was a knock on the front door. Annoyed, he wiped his mouth and stood with a loud huff.

He was quite surprised to see Daphne Greengrass on the door step, a mailer clutched to her chest.

She didn't smile or offer any greeting. Instead, she said, "You are very hard to track down. This whole place smells like cheese. Why are you here?"

Draco was slack jawed for only a moment. "There is a piece of commercial property I'm looking into; this neighborhood is up and coming, smell aside - wait, why are _you _here?"

She offered him the mailer that was in her hands. "I found this in Astoria's room before she went back to Hogwarts."

Draco looked down at the page Daphne had the mailer turned to, surprised to see the letters "DM" next to a necklace.

"Those are your initials, are they not?" Daphne tapped her finger against the page. "And I'm sure you recognize her handwriting better than anyone at this point."

Draco suppressed a sigh. "So why are you here, Daphne?"

"I...I wanted to give you this," she pulled a small box out of her back pocket. "It's the same item she wanted from the Weasley's shop and, well, since her birthday is soon-"

"Her birthday is soon?"

"Yes, on the 16th."

Draco opened the box slowly, keeping an eye on Daphne just in case she decided to pull something. But she kept still, occasionally fiddling with the hem of her shirt, and he turned his full attention to the Weasley product.

It was actually a set of necklaces: one was a key that read "FRIEND" on the side; the other was a heart shaped locket with the word "BEST" on its front. When the key was inserted into the locket, it opened and shown multicolored light like from a prism set out in the sun and played soft, lilting music.

He snapped the locket closed and shoved both necklaces back into the box.

"Why are you doing this? Why are you here?" He demanded.

She shook the hair out of her face and stood up straight. "It's Astoria's birthday, and for some reason she wants to share this necklace with you. I do not approve but...I love her and I want her to be happy. So, consider this a peace offering."

He snorted but did not give the box back.

"I used to be afraid of you," Daphne said in a quiet voice. He rolled his eyes. "But I love Astoria more than words and I - I am not afraid anymore." She took a step forward, invading his personal space. He didn't budge. "Hurt her and I'll kill you."

Draco raised an eyebrow. Judging solely on the look she was giving him, he didn't doubt her for a second. He stuck the box in his pocket and nodded.

"Fair enough."

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**A/N:** This was originally posted to _hh(underscore)sugarquill_ and stands at 487 words.


	12. Astoria's Birthday

**Dislcaimer:**Argh.

Oooh, two updates in one day! Also, I don't currently have anyone acting as a betuh, so, uh, it could probably be bettuh.

This one shot was originally posted to livejournal on May 8, 2011

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**Astoria's Birthday**

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Life back at Hogwarts after Easter break was normal. Days went by like they typically had for the past seven years and Astoria fell back into line.

With the end of the year approaching, classes were hectic and her schedule left her little time to dwell on anything besides double potions and transfiguration. But at night, sometimes, she couldn't help but think and rethink the last conversation she had with Draco and with her sister.

She hadn't heard from either of them since that awful day, but to be fair she hadn't reached out either. She was too mad at Daphne to try and if Draco didn't want her she didn't want to be that desperate girl who never got the hint.

That being said, she was already making plans of what to get him for his birthday because sending him a small gift on his birthday wasn't _desperate_, right?

The second anniversary of the final battle at Hogwarts was observed (because "celebrated" wasn't the right word) and classes were cancelled that day. Still though, the day was so somber she really didn't muse on her relationships. A memorial service was held in the great hall where all the students held lit candles and stood together, singing. That night there was a feast and the house elves had really outdone themselves, but there was very little joy or festivity. Rather, there was a sense of school wide comradery where everyone sat at whatever table they wanted and all the houses intermixed as they ate and even though no one was laughing, there was a comfort in just being around each other.

Headmistresses McGonagall had given a very small speech before dinner had been served. She said that, "even though the loss of our friends and school mates still weighs heavily on our hearts, we should never let our sadness dim our gratefulness."

It had given Astoria a lot to think about.

She thought about it and the ever approaching finals so much she almost forgot that she was having a birthday. In fact, she would have forgotten completely if it weren't for her two best friends who woke her up before the sunrise by singing.

Astoria was exhausted as she staggered to the great hall for breakfast, following behind Samantha and Olivia who would not stop talking and wishing her a happy birthday. She loved them, she really did, but she wasn't sleeping well and so much noise in the morning hurt.

She had just started on her eggs when the owls came in with the mail; two packages landed almost in her lap. Of course, so did her eggs.

Quickly cleaning herself up, Astoria opened the box from her parents. It was stuffed with home baked goods that she knew her favorite house elf had prepared because her mother never stepped foot in the kitchen. There was also some money and a very lovely card that her mother had actually written herself.

Daphne hadn't sent a card, but her box contained a black and yellow scarf and matching mittens.

"Oooh, house colors!" Samantha cooed, reaching out and touching the scarf in Astoria's hands.

"Not very useful this time of year," Olivia said around a mouthful of sausage.

Astoria had to fight back tears. Blinking rapidly, she said, "Yes, but these were handmade, guys. She made these herself."

"Plus its not like it won't be winter again one day," Samantha rolled her eyes.

"But she won't be in Hufflepuff anymore," Olivia pointed out.

Samantha snorted. "Once a badger, always a badger."

Astoria wiped her eyes quickly and went back to her breakfast. She started drafting a letter to her sister in her head; she really couldn't stay mad now that the Slytherin girl had made a Hufflepuff scarf and mittens by hand.

Samantha cleared her throat. "We got you something too."

"Really?" Astoria asked, "You guys didn't have to do anything."

"It isn't anything big," Samantha said, blushing and not looking her in the eyes as she pulled out a small book from her bag.

"We've been working on it for a couple of months now," Olivia told her.

Astoria smiled as she took the book from Samantha's hands and almost cried again for the second time that morning – they had made a photo album. There were dozens of pages of pictures of the three of them together.

"It goes back all the way to first year," said Olivia.

"And we left a couple of pages blank because there's still a few weeks left in our seventh year," Samantha said, pointing out the blank pages at the back of the book.

"It's beautiful," Astoria hugged the book to her chest before hugging each of her friends in turn.

Samantha blushed again but assured that it was no big deal and went back to her breakfast; Olivia smiled brightly and kissed her on the cheek.

Having to wipe her face dry again, Astoria picked at her food and flipped through the pages of her new photo album.

To her complete and total surprise, an owl that was at least fifteen minutes later than all the other owls swooped into the great hall and dropped a package on her second serving of eggs.

She recognized the handwriting on the box immediately.

"We better run or we're going to be late for class," Olivia said as she stood up. Samantha nodded and joined her and they both looked at Astoria. "Are you coming?"

"Er," Astoria shook her head and smiled. "I just want to take my presents back up to the dormitory. I'll meet you all in class in a minute."

Shrugging, her friends left her with her new package.

Astoria looked to make sure no one was paying attention and quickly tore into the small box. A single piece of paper fell out.

_Happy birthday, Tori._

_- Draco_

Shaking, she opened the box and her breath caught in the throat. She pulled out a small locket with the word "BEST" carved on its front and a picture of Draco. He kept rolling his eyes in the picture and shaking his head, but around his neck was a necklace with a pendant of a key.

She laughed even as tears pooled on her cheeks. _How could he have known?_

Astoria put the necklace around her neck and decided she was going to ditch class. It was her birthday, after all. And besides, she had some letters she needed to write.

* * *

**A/N:** This was written for _hh(underscore)sugarquill_ and stands at 1,077 words.


	13. Disarmed

**Disclaimer:** Um.

Sorry! I wrote this in June and it slipped my mine to update here.

These one-shots were originally posted to livejournal on June 30, 2011

* * *

**Disarmed**

Draco settled in to the bed, exhausted. Traveling always made him weary. He was visiting a small muggle town in rural Scotland, looking in to a few pieces of private property that would make lovely summer homes.

Not for him, of course. He'd fix them up and sell them for a profit. But, nothing had looked very promising and so he had stopped in at a bed and breakfast, forgoing returning to his own empty home or worse, the only slightly empty Malfoy Manor.

He put one arm behind his head and twirled his wand in his free hand. He knew every part, every notch of the hawthorn wood wand that had chosen him at Ollivander's shop so many years ago. When it was taken from him, by Potter none the less, he had felt naked.

But then, Potter had done something unexpected.

He had returned it.

That was almost worse than him taking it in the first place.

_A buzzing sound filled the Great Hall when Harry Potter re-entered. He had been gone for hours and the survivors of the war had just sat around and waited for their hero to reemerge. _

_Draco was huddled in the corner with his parents; they felt trapped. Where were they supposed to go? If they stayed too long at Hogwarts, someone might notice them – someone might care that they were there. And they could be thrown into jail for being former Death Eaters. But if they left there was a chance they would be ambushed in their home for being former Death Eaters. For the time being at least, they were safe from immediate conflict._

_Harry stopped to say hi to a few people. He didn't smile. He shook a lot of hands and hugged those who were red-haired. Weasley was practically glued to his elbow and Draco was surprised that Granger was no where to be seen. _

_Potter, the hero, scanned the room, his keen green eyes landing on the Malfoys._

_Draco could feel both his mother and father stiffen on either side of him as Potter (and Weasley) approached. _

_When Harry stopped directly in front of the Malfoys, Draco stood, ignoring the fact that most of the Great Hall had stopped buzzing and were watching them. _

_For a moment, the two just stared at each other; Draco was too tired to muster any sort of contempt, and he assumed so was Harry. The hero sighed and glanced at Narcissa and Lucius before pulling out a wand._

_Draco's mother gasped._

_Harry's full attention was on Draco as he pulled out a second wand – this one Draco recognized as his own._

_He stood as straight as he could, the silence of the room absolutely deafening. _

"_I have your wand," Harry stated._

_Draco raised both eyebrows in agreement. _

_Harry sighed again and handed Ron his own wand._

"_Disarm me."_

_He looked from Potter to Weasley, quite unsure what to do. For starters, he was weaponless. Second, the entire Great Hall was watching. And third, Weasley was staring at him with a fire burning in his eyes, his hands wrapped around two wands like fists. _

_Honestly, what did Weasley expect him to do without a weapon and no possible means of escape? Was he really that daft?_

_Draco was caught off guard when his mother rose next to him and placed her wand in his hand._

_He looked at the foreign wand for a moment before looking back at Harry._

"_Disarm me," Harry nodded._

"_Expelliarmus," Draco mumbled. His wand flew out of Harry's hand and into his own. He handed his mother back her wand and grasped his tightly in his hand, relief filling him._

_Potter walked away without saying another word._

_Weasley, however, glared at said, "You're welcome!" before storming after him._

_Draco just watched them go, unable to reply. Having his wand back was a welcome relief, but it wasn't enough._

Draco grunted and stuck his wand in his pocket, deciding instead of going to bed early that he would raid the kitchens of the B&B for dinner.

* * *

**Doppelganger**

The sun was still fighting its way through the frilly, overly patterned curtains in the hallways of the bed and breakfast as Draco stalked down to the kitchen. He wasn't actually sure if he could just take food, but really wasn't too concerned about rules. He was hungry. And what muggle would be able to stop him, anyway?

He was happy to see that their pantry was fully stocked with the junk foods he had been forced to familiarize himself with in his line of work. He was just reaching for a box of white cheddar Cheez Its when an older woman walked in.

Draco's hand froze and his eyes went wide. He didn't expect to be caught and hadn't thought of an escape plan.

The older woman was stocky in build with short, curly brown hair and sharp, brown eyes that studied him for a few moments. After a while she nodded and wiped her hands on the white apron around her waist.

"You make the tacos."

Her voice was heavy with an accent he didn't recognize. He took his hands off the Cheez Its and turned to face her fully.

"Pardon?"

"You make the tacos," she repeated slowly, as if she was speaking to a child or a mentally handicapped person. "Now. Go."

"I-I don't…" Draco puckered his lips and stared at her. "Pardon?"

She sighed. "You. Make. The. Tacos." The woman pointed at the stove top.

Draco followed her point and stared at the stove, hoping perhaps it contained answers. He took a couple of deep breaths before shaking his head. "I have no idea what you are saying right now."

The woman looked at him as if he was crazy and opened the fridge, pulling out several large packages of ground meat. She thrusted them into Draco's hands and he was rather disgusted with how wet and slimy they were.

"You make the tacos."

He blinked down at the meat helplessly before looking in the woman's eyes. "I don't know what tacos even are."

She grunted and pulled out a couple of pans. With an angry glare she took the packages of meat from him, opened them, and dumped their contents into the pans. Then she grabbed a wooden spoon, stuck it in his hand, and guided him in the act of browning the meat on the stove top.

Draco huffed indignantly.

"Do you know who I am?" He demanded, still stirring the meat with the wooden spoon even after she let go of him. "Do you know who my father is?"

When she simply shrugged he narrowed his brow.

"Yes, I suppose Father won't be much help…but, still! Do you know who I am? Why, I'm going to buy this hellhole and then I'm going to fire you! Oh, you will get your comeuppance. Not right away of course, depending on the market and the paper work….but, within two to twelve months – you will get your comeuppance!"

"Eh?" She said, her lip snarling in confusion.

At that moment, a young boy about his own age, with blond hair and pale skin walked into the kitchen.

Draco almost dropped the spoon. It was like looking in a mirror.

A muggle mirror.

The boy looked scarily like Draco's own reflection. Apparently, he had a muggle doppelganger.

The woman gasped and grabbed at her chest.

Draco's doppelganger grabbed an apron off a shelf and tied it around his waist, never taking his eyes off of Draco.

Finally, Draco sighed. "Let me guess. You make the tacos?"

"Yeah," he replied easily. "I make the tacos."

Draco handed the boy his spoon, grabbed the Cheez Its out of the pantry, and rushed out of the room without another word.

* * *

**A/N:** Written for _hh(underscore)sugarquill_ and their prompts of Flashbacks and A Pureblood Being Forced to Cook a Muggle Dish. Stands at 1,296 words.


	14. Draco's Birthday

**Disclaimer:** Boom goes the dynamite.

* * *

**Draco's Birthday**

Astoria read over Draco's newest letter for the second time, hardly able to contain her laughter. The picture that had tumbled out from the parchment had stopped her dead in her tracks and her brain couldn't really process what she was reading. Apparently he had run in to his muggle identical twin, and she was fortunate enough that he snapped a picture of the two of them together. He didn't offer much in a way of explanation - just that, here they were, and he thought she would enjoy it.

She stuck the picture in her diary, a smile still on her face. She did enjoy it. How funny that Draco Malfoy would find have a muggle twin funny. It was a surprise and yet it wasn't - put that boy's face on Harry Potter and he was sure to become a fan.

Astoria bit her lip as she stared down at the picture. The fact that Draco's birthday was only three days away had not escaped her. She had struggled over what exactly to get him. She wanted to get him something special, something that says, "I know you well, but not so well that you have to be worried about me stalking you." Er, or something. But so far she had come up with squat.

It was hard coming up with the perfect present during NEWTS.

She was putting even more pressure on her self because she really wanted to continue their friendship after graduation. She was hoping they could spend time face to face, since the last time they had tried that hadn't ended so well. Astoria didn't want to ruin things by sending him a subpar birthday present.

But what did you get for the boy who had everything? And had the means to get himself anything else he wanted?

The real question, Astoria finally decided, was what did Draco really enjoy? What did he love more than anything?

She smiled down at the picture he had sent her. Wasn't it kind of obvious?

Three days later, Draco was awoken by the sound of pecking at his window. Scowling as he opened his eyes, he saw a small barn owl waiting for him. The realization that it was his birthday dawned on him at about the same time he recognized the owl as Astoria's.

He kneeled on the edge of his bed and opened the window; the small owl dropped an equally small package on his lap. He tore in to the wrapper and a beautiful mirror fell onto his bed. It was about the size of the palm of his hand and had intricate flowers carved around the silver edges. He stared at his reflection for a moment before searching for a note.

There was just one sentence.

_Happy birthday - Tori_

His eyebrow quirked and he couldn't help but grinning slightly. He grabbed the parchment and pen that was on the side of his bed and jotted down a quick letter for her owl to take back to Hogwarts, seeing as how the thing was perched on his headboard.

_Not entirely sure what you're trying to tell me here, Tori. But thank you for the image of the incredibly handsome, dashing fellow. I will cherish it always. - D_

* * *

**541 words. **No challenge._  
_


	15. Party Talk

**Disclaimer:** No beta was harmed in the writing of this chapter.

* * *

**Party Talk**

Having a corset forcibly put on was not a pleasant way to spend an afternoon, Astoria decided. Her mother, for whatever reason, had gotten back into throwing parties. Besides the party last December where she had first actually spoken with Draco, her mother had not found reason for such a gathering since Astoria was a little girl.

Maybe she was finally over the shame of having a Hufflepuff daughter. Or maybe she didn't feel such a need to lay low anymore, now that the biggest threat on their way of life had been taken out by Harry Potter. Whatever the reason was, Mrs. Greengrass was throwing a Summer Solstice party and Astoria was expected to look like a grown woman. That look was apparently only achieved with the use of corsets.

"I've always loved you in blue, darling," Lucille Greengrass said over the rim of her martini glass. She used her free hand to wave her wand and a sapphire blue ball gown floated out of the closet. "It brings out your eyes."

Daphne snorted from her seat on the chaise lounge.

Astoria tried to glare at her sister's reflection in the full length mirror she was standing in front of, but Daphne was too busy flipping through a magazine.

The dress hovered above her head and she obediently lifted her arms. Her mother flitted behind her, pulling the dress the rest of the way down with one hand.

"Hmm," she said, taking another sip. "It'll need to be let out a little. _Someone's_ been eating too much bread."

Mortified, Astoria blushed and placed the palms of her hands over her stomach. "Mother!"

"Don't give her such a hard time, Mother," Daphne grinned at her magazine. "They're happy pounds."

"I have not gained weight!" Astoria insisted.

"Happy pounds?" Lucille wondered aloud, letting go of her glass and letting it hover next to her. "Of course, she did just finish school. And we're so proud of you, dear." She held Astoria's face in one hand and air kissed her cheeks. "Hmm. Though it does seem your waist isn't the only rapidly expanding part of you. My sweet little chipmunk."

Astoria's eyes went wide as she stared after her mother who was walking towards the closet. She touched her cheeks and checked her reflection in the mirror for any signs of chipmunkness.

Daphne giggled but did not look up at the mirror in order for Astoria to properly glare at her.

Astoria pushed her hair out of her eyes and cleared her throat. "Mother?"

"Yes?" Lucille responded, no longer visible in the closet.

"Who-who all is invited to the party?"

"The party," Lucille repeated with an unnecessary roll to her r's. "Yes. Well, everyone! Anyone who is anyone will be there."

Daphne finally looked up from her magazine and smiled at her sister's reflection. "What about the Malfoys, Mother?"

Astoria's lips thinned and she flashed her sister a dangerous look.

Lucille popped out of the closet, several gowns in her hands. "The Malfoys? Oh, heavens no." She draped the dresses over the chaise lounge and raised an eyebrow at her eldest daughter. "Why should I do that?"

"Tori-darling is friendly with their boy."

Lucille rolled her eyes and summoned her floating martini glass. "Unfortunately I am all too aware. You shouldn't be waisting your time with him, Astoria."

"We're just friends, Mother." She gathered up her gown and stepped away from the mirror. With as much indignation as she could muster she walked towards her family. "And perhaps you should extend friendship towards Narcissa. She is just having an awful time right now."

Lucille's eyebrows raised and she shrugged both shoulders. "Well, darling, I should think so. What with her husband." She took a sip of her drink and sat down next to Daphne. "Traitors don't tend to have a lot of friends, dear. That's not my problem."

Astoria sighed. "No, it's not. But Narcissa didn't choose Lucius' punishment."

"Three months in Azkaban is hardly punishment," Lucille said. "Especially when his word will keep many of our former associates in that place for the rest of their lives. He would've been better off rotting in a cell, if you ask me."

Astoria could recognize a lost cause when came upon one, so she just turned towards the closet. "Well, I'm going to invite Draco anyway. It's not fair for children to suffer for their parents' sins."

She could see Lucille turn to her sister in the mirror as she walked by. "Was that a shot at me?

* * *

**757 words.** No challenge.


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